Teddy Bear Love

Chapter VII - AWOL

Theodore

I leaned back against the wall next to the library door. For the umpteenth time, my eyes flicked to the smartwatch strapped around my wrist. She was never late. A knot tightened in my stomach as I scanned the busy halls for any trace of Lucy.

"Where are you?" I murmured under my breath, the words dissolving into the chilly air. The familiar laughter and chatter of other students seemed distant, muffled by the veil of my worry.

The memories of yesterday – My last encounter with Lucy played on repeat in my mind, like a vivid scene from a movie that I couldn't pause or escape from. I could still feel the sting of regret and self-blame for fucking up. Vi wasn't supposed to find my sanctuary. A place where I could escape the chaos of our intertwined lives.

Ever since we were children, everything I had and everyone I knew also belonged to Vivianne. It was as if she had a way of sinking her hooks into anyone and anything that came in contact with me. But this time, I wanted something - someone - that wasn't under her spell.

So, when the principal told me we were getting a new student, a glimmer of hope sparked within me. Finally, I had the chance to make a real friend. All I had to do was keep them separate from everything else in my life, especially Vivianne, who always seemed to bring drama wherever she went.

For the brief moments during our study sessions together, I felt like I could finally breathe again. Lucy listened to me without any expectations or judgments. She didn't try to make quips, stupid jokes, or cheesy one-liners in an attempt to make every conversation 'funny'. She could hold a serious conversation.

She seemed to embrace and appreciate the person I am. I liked the part of me she saw... I chuckled bitterly at the irony. Lucy was kind and positive, the complete opposite of Vi. Yet, somehow, they were living under the same roof. How could I forget about the charity? I vaguely remembered Vi mentioning that someone from a churchy orphanage would be staying at her house. I connected the dots far too late. It was all too convenient - or perhaps it was fate playing its cruel tricks once again.

I saw the look in Lucy's eyes when I downplayed our friendship...It was undeniably hurt.

"Theodore Beckington, lost in thought? Now that's a rare sight." Vivianne teased.

Dragging myself out of the memory, I forced a smirk onto my face, meeting her amused gaze with a nonchalant shrug. "Just strategizing my next move," I lied smoothly, the image of Lucy's delicate frown lingering behind my eyelids.

"Sure, you are," she chuckled, shaking her head before moving on.

She was checking on me here now. I lost yet another sanctuary. Alone again, I stood up straighter, raking a hand through my dense hair. It wasn't like me to get so worked up over someone—I didn't care about what people thought of me. Yet, as the minutes ticked on, the possibility that I might actually care about how Lucy perceived me was a weighty thought in my mind.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unsaid apologies and the echo of my internal turmoil. Was this what it felt like to be on the edge of something more than just a simple friendship? The idea seemed ludicrous, yet there it was, unfurling in my chest like a relentless vine.

"Maybe she's sick," I reasoned with myself, though the excuse sounded feeble even in my own ears. I've never once been stood up. But Lucy Windsor, the girl who practically glowed with resilience, skipping out on a commitment because of a cold? Unlikely.

I could be a tool in front of Vi, sure, but Lucy hadn't said anything or push back at all. Did I mistake her silence for indifference? I know I put my foot in my mouth yet again.

"Idiot," I muttered, chastising myself. My reputation as the academy's resident golden boy didn't leave much room for sensitivity, but the thought of truly upsetting Lucy left a sour taste in my mouth.

I needed to do something—anything—to distract myself from this unsettling introspection compelling me forward.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Gritting my teeth, I gripped the lacrosse stick tighter and sprinted down the field. Each stride pounded away the image of the empty seat where Lucy should've been sitting, waiting for our study session. Wind whipped through my hair, and the scent of freshly cut grass filled my nostrils as I dodged opponents with practiced ease.

"Beckington, focus!" Coach bellowed from the sidelines.

"Got it, Coach," I called back, though my mind was far from focused. With a powerful thrust, I sent the ball hurtling into the goal, the satisfying clank of impact drowning out my thoughts for a brief second.

"Good shot, Beckington!" one of my teammates cheered.

"Thanks," I said, panting heavily, trying not to let on that every muscle in my body was coiled with tension.

"Mate, you see that Windsor girl today?" a voice broke through the commotion of practice, and instantly, my ears pricked up.

"Lucille? Yeah, she's got this..." as he makes a shape with his hands, "...perfect bunda," another replied, voices carrying easily across the field. "Yeah! Hot as fuck! She always dresses proper, but we know betta."

" Right? There's only so much you can hide," the first guy added, chuckling.

"She's an orphan, right? I love girls with daddy issues. You think she's taking applications?" The third chimed in.

My grip on the stick tightened until my knuckles blanched. I forced myself to take a deep breath. It wasn't like me to care about what others thought, especially about a girl, but hearing them talk about Lucy sparked something unfamiliar within me...

"Guys, focus on the drills! Save the chatter for the locker room," Coach shouted, cutting through the noise.

I nodded, more to myself than to him, and threw myself back into the practice with renewed vigor. The physical exertion was a welcome distraction, but I couldn't shake the image of Lucy's eyes from my mind nor the sound of my peers discussing her as if she were just another conquest.

"Beckington, keep your head in the game!" Coach yelled again, and this time, I took his advice to heart.

"Right. Game on," I muttered under my breath, chasing after the ball once more. But even as I played, the twinge of jealousy remained.

I always feel shy writing from a man's POV. How did y'all like it?

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